Misery Breeds Comedy
by Scandalacious Scottie
Summary: The canon discusses humor fics and what they wish to do to the authors that write it. Copyright Maguire, Schwartz, Holzman.


**Disclaimer: The penname look familar? (like your dead girlfriend?)**

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The atmosphere in the room resembled a funeral mixed with an emo-caught-in-the-rain angst-fest. Boq, Nessa, Fiyero, Elphaba, and Glinda had somehow all managed to find their own little corner in the four-cornered dorm room to wallow in misery. They were all thinking the same thought, and it was Glinda who voiced it aloud. 

"I hate being in humor fics," she said darkly. Which was saying something, since it was Glinda.

"I know! You wouldn't believe how ridiculous humor fics are nowadays!" Boq said miserably.

"I can't count the number of Wicked parodies on my fingers and toes combined," Fiyero complained. "And they only make jokes about my tight-ass pants and say I have the mental capacity of a two-year-old! People with the mental capacitites of two-year-olds don't _make it_ to college!"

"And I am not funny!" Nessa said. "I mean, look at me! I am crippled since birth and have issues with control when it comes to relationships, enslaving the people I was supposed to rule! That is not funny!"

"Yes! And I'm not funny either!" Elphaba added. "I had a depressing childhood and everyone hates me the instant they see me! That is not funny!"

"Boq and I!" Fiyero continued. "We have tragic romantic interests, and in the end we attempt to pursue our dreams and end up transformed into immortal humanoid circus freaks!"

"Not funny!" Boq agreed.

"Me," Glinda said. "Forced into a political position that requires me to tell lies about my friends, and in the end, I think all of you are dead and probably go into insane depression!"

"Not funny!" everyone said in unison.

"So why are there eight pages of humor fics?!" Elphaba demanded. "Twenty five stories per page, that's _two hundred stories_ that are meant to be funny about people that aren't funny _at all_!"

"ANSWER ME THAT ONE, AUTHORS!" Fiyero yelled, flipping off the ceiling.

"What in Oz was that?" Nessa asked. Fiyero looked at her, suddenly realizing that what he had done looked incredibly stupid.

"Oh… y'know…" he made the gesture at the ceiling again. "Like…Sticking it to the authors… I'll stop now." He returned to his private corner of depression.

"Though that goes to show how pathetic this all is," Boq said. "We've been forced to elevate these authors, authors that didn't even create us, to the level of minor gods because of the amount of control they have in our lives!"

"It… Just… Sucks!" Glinda said, kicking at the wall, but it was okay, because she was wearing bunny slippers as opposed to designer shoes or something that would get a scuffed.

"Though it's not even like what they write is funny in the first place," Nessa said. "I mean, most of it involves us torturing each other. No, not flame-and-whips torture," Nessa amended as the others glared at her. "Like… There's this fic where Elphaba and Glinda re-enact their wedding-"

"Saran VD…" Elphaba and Glinda said murderously.

"And that's only funny to non-Gelphie heads because Fiyero is sitting there in sheer agony!" she finished.

"You have a point, Nessa," Boq began. "There's a oneshot by gethsemane342, where Elphaba locks Glinda out of the room, which was really, really mean!"

"And everyone reviewed it and said it was funny!" Glinda cried. "I hate _authors_, too! Authors and humor fics! Hate, hate, hate, hate, hate, hate-"

"LOATHING!" Everyone shouted. "Unadulterated loathing!"

"For their poems," Fiyero said.

"Their dooms," Elphaba continued.

"And spoofing!" Nessa finished.

"Let's just say," they all said. "We loathe it all!"

"WAIT!" Boq screamed. "WE'RE SINGING!"

In the shocked silence everyone realized that they had, indeed, randomly burst out into song. Boq started sobbing uncontrollably.

"That's exactly what they want us to do," he said miserably. "They think our lives are musicals and we sing whatever we're thinking but we don't but they write it like we do and if we do then it means that they won and we lost and we're just pathetic scum…" He curled up in a corner and started trying to slit his wrists with the heels of Nessa's magical red pumps.

"Whoa! Calm down!" Elphaba confiscated said shoes as Fiyero sat next to Boq.

"Hey, look who it is, it's Comrade Vodka, here to make it all better," Fiyero produced a bottle of the stuff, which Boq proceeded to drown his pain in.

"I think Collins of RENT will be looking for that soon," Glinda said soberly as Boq tried to get drunk.

"I don't care," Fiyero said as Boq broke for air. "He owes me _several_. I'm just calling one of the favors." He took the bottle away from Boq. "That should be enough to keep you sane."

"A little more!" Boq said, reaching for the bottle.

"No," Fiyero said. "Or else you'll get drunk and start singing about a boyfriend in Munchkinland like Elphie did."

"_That_ fic! Yes," Elphaba said, hot fire in her veins. "In fact, give that to me." She stole the bottle of vodka and threw it out the window. The smashing of glass reached their ears from below. "So that will never happen to any of us ever again."

"I just wish there was something we could do to tell the authors that we hate the fics!" Glinda moaned, lying down on the floor and staring at the ceiling.

"Y'know, most of them claim they can talk to us," Elphaba said. "Like, I remember there was a fic where there were versions of us depending on which pairing would actually happen in a fic, but the homo versions of Glinda and I got sick so the hetero pair had to do it…"

"The Pixess," Nessa said angrily. Boq cowered in the corner.

"Comrade Vodka, please come back…" he squeaked. "That's the demonic writer that wrote the fic where Nessa abducted me and started putting makeup on me and Elphaba came but didn't rescue me and it took me hours of scrubbing to get it off me…"

"Well, OMG it's WickedJelly makes up for it," Fiyero said. "She had you turned into this playboy."

"Yes, but the people who don't read Gloq or Bessa only read it because you're sitting there being ignored and they think your pain is funny!" Glinda pointed out.

"Okay," Nessa said authoritatively. "Everyone's going to find something sharp, and then the next time we see an author, we're going to kill her. Stab to death."

"You're assuming it's a girl?" Elphaba said as she passed out her random collection of sharp objects that only a person like Elphaba would keep around.

"Wicked is a 'girl power' musical," Nessa said. "Honestly, even the girls with boyish pen names are still that: girls."

The door lock clicked, and two teenage girls entered, one with red hair and one with blonde. They were both toting laptops with Word documents up.

"Oh, two seconds," the redhead started typing. Before the Ozians could do anything, their sharp objects blunted over.

"What the fuck?" Fiyero said, whacking his now cylindrical shard of glass against his hand. It shimmered and wavered a little bit.

"Clever, Pixie," the blonde one said, reading over her accomplice's shoulder.

"I thought so Losty," she said loftily, then hit save. A ding sounded, and the shimmering and wavering stopped.

"That still doesn't answer the question 'what the fuck'!" Fiyero threw down the piece of glass. It didn't break. He stomped on it. It didn't break.

"Zarri sent us with the new model of laptops from her 'Part of Your World' series," the blonde said, showing off the shiny silver laptop with 'zotv' emblazoned on the cover, standing for zarri-of-the-vinkus. "Just so, y'know, if any of you suddenly decided to stab the next author you saw, we'd be safe."

Everybody thought about how the best-laid plans can go astray.

"So," The Pixess said happily. "How ya doing?"

"Great," Boq said. Everybody turned and looked at him like he was crazy. "Life's a breeze. Nothing in any of the fics is bothering me at all." Needless to say, Boq was very bad at reverse psychology.

"Glad to hear it," LostOzian said. "Because Pixie and I are planning to co-author something."

"You're… you're what?" Glinda tried to wrap her mind around it.

"Since there was so much tension when Wolfie's Wicked Fanfiction Awards went up, we decided that in order to be the best we could be we were going to tag-team and write a story together." The Pixess supplied.

"Humor, of course," The Lost flipped her hair. "With our usual sadistic slant."

And the canon screamed. The canon screamed until there was no air in their lungs to continue to scream.

Hell was real. It was called Fanfiction dot Net.

Pixess peered over her shoulder, rereading that last line. "That's rather harsh," she adonished.

Losty rolled her eyes. "That's the _sadistic _part," she said, as though she didn't think the other girl was none too bright. "Have you been writing Pfannee's POV too long or something?"

"Oz, I hope not," shuddered Pixie, and then hooked her arm with Losty's as they both skipped off to work on their joint story, ignoring the canon and cackling madly all the way.

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**Um kay so in case you didn't figure it out already this is a joint account between me (The Pixess!) and LostOzian. We ARE co-authoring, just this once, but for some reason she wrote this and just as an inside joke between us and it was seriously too priceless not to post. So I did, with my own personal touch at the end ;)**


End file.
